The Inquisition, Indiana Holiday Special
by Paperclippe
Summary: It's the holiday season on Eleanor's Indiana farm, and between the snow, the Blight, and holiday shoppers, she isn't having any of it. But with Cullen, Dorian, and Varric there, will Eleanor find a little holiday cheer?
1. Holly Jolly

A/N: If you have read Inquisition, Indiana, this takes place after Eleanor & Co. have come back from Thedas but before the final push for soldiers and Wardens to end the Blight in Indiana.

When exactly? The hell if I know. It's a Christmas special. It doesn't matter.

If you haven't read Inquisition, Indiana, go back and start there. We'll try not to get too far ahead before you get back. The revised version is up on Archive of Our Own.

* * *

Eleanor rubbed her eyes and stared out at the snow, tinted blue in the early dawn light. The last thing she wanted to do today was go to the store - any store - but she had hungry troops to feed and her errands wouldn't run themselves. But between the snow and the cold and the madness she knew she was about to face on the roads and in the aisles, Eleanor's back hunched more and more by the minute, even her posture unwilling and unmotivated. She clutched her coffee tighter and pulled her gaze away from the window in the kitchen's back door.

"Mm, good morning," Cullen's voice came from the doorway. He was drying his hair, still wet from the shower, rubbing his head vigorously with a towel. Little drops sprung free and flicked themselves toward Eleanor, splashing her gently on the cheek. On another morning, she might have laughed, but on this morning, Eleanor didn't even turn her head, only turned her eyes dully toward Cullen, lifting one eyebrow as if asking, "Really?"

Cullen slowed the motion of his arm and gave her an apologetic little smile, flinging the towel over the back of the chair where he then sat. His hair stood up at all angles, the curls doing their best to in no way form a cohesive unit. He leaned on his left elbow, jaw resting on his knuckles, and asked, "Something wrong?"

"I have to go shopping," Eleanor muttered into her cup.

Cullen's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, that's…"

Eleanor sighed and stood, walking to the coffee maker to refill her mug and fetch Cullen one of his own. "It's…" she started to say, but instead said, "You're coming with me."

"Of course," he said, eagerly accepting the cup. Eleanor sat back down in her chair, facing the commander who still had an air of bafflement about him, but also an air of ease. Eleanor sat down her cup and rubbed her face, then reached out to adjust the hood on Cullen's red sweatshirt - his second one, the first having been lost to the darkspawn - and let her arms stay around his neck when she was finished.

His hands in his lap, cradling his mug, Cullen carefully bent forward and kissed Eleanor. "Is everything alright?"

After a moment, Eleanor nodded, because truthfully, it was. Holiday crowds and traffic and weather weren't awesome, not at all, but she could get - was getting - an early start on the day, and she could use Cullen's size, if nothing else, to cut a path through the store if the aisles were too jammed. Indeed, the visual of him plowing through holiday shoppers the way he plowed through darkspawn made Eleanor smile a reluctant smile, and she gently bumped her forehead against Cullen's, some of the tension she had felt dispersing.

"Lemme take us out for breakfast," she offered. "Dorian and Varric can fend for themselves."

* * *

A/N: Look! A special present for you! It's Christmas in July!

But wait, Paperclippe - isn't it June? Aren't you Jewish? Didn't you finish Inquisition, Indiana two years ago?

The answer to all of your questions is: yes.

But.

My beta suggested this to me as she was finishing up reading Inquisition, Indiana, and I always thought that it was a really good idea. I thought I might do it for this past holiday season, but the time got away from me, as time does. And since time frequently gets away from me (as well as the fact that I'm still actively writing Once More unto the Breach, and that I'm posting to the Dragon Age parody twitter - sfmstories, and I'm sort of slowly working on Dragon Age: AD), I figure this won't be finished until July, and then it'll be like a Christmas in July! Even though I don't celebrate Christmas!

So, yeah, this is just gonna be some fluff but I thought we could all use some fluff right now.

HO HO HO HAPPY FLAG DAY


	2. All the Surrounding White

At just a little past eight in the morning, the highways were mostly clear. It was a Thursday, and Eleanor realized that this was probably a point in her favor; though it was just a week before Christmas, she supposed that mostly everyone still had to go to work. And Hanukkah probably wasn't going to have much of an impact on travel. The snow, thankfully, seemed to have been cleared during the night, and no more was falling at the moment, though the grey sky overhead threatened more at any moment, but it was nevertheless holding off.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all, Eleanor thought. The hardest thing she'd had to do so far this morning was find a station that wasn't playing twenty-four seven Christmas jingles. It wasn't so much that she minded the music, it was only that she could only hear so many versions of "Silent Night" before she wanted to strangle the baby Jesus. She did manage to find a college radio station out of Terre Haute that was playing 90s alternative rock, and Eleanor decided that listening to the same shit she'd listened to in high school was still better than "White Christmas" done by anyone other than Bing Crosby, and though the signal went in and out every now and again, she let the station play. A few times she even caught herself humming along. Cullen didn't seem to notice her frantic station switching, only gazed out the window at the snowy fields, once full of corn and soybeans, now flat except for the occasional small dune where the wind had blown the snow into little curved mounds. Everything was white.

They got snow in Ferelden, especially as far south and as deep into the mountains as Honnleath, but it didn't look like this. There were so many hills and valleys, so much uneven geography, that the huge plain of white that passed Cullen by was like nothing he'd ever seen. Just endless flat white, punctuated every now and again by the black figure of a bare tree reaching up toward the equally white sky. There were so many things the same here as there were in Ferelden, and still, some things were just so different.

There was a break in the music when the radio station became garbled either because of weather or distance, and Eleanor leaned forward slightly to read a road sign, her hands gripping the steering wheel.

"I feel like waffles," she said, and merged into the right lane. "Let's get us some waffles, huh?"

Cullen turned away from the window and saw Eleanor give him a mock-conspiratorial wink, her eyes a bright grey-blue against all the surrounding white.


	3. Full of Lights

Belly full of eggs and waffles, Cullen pushed the shopping cart serenely behind Eleanor, dutifully reaching for higher shelves when he was asked. Eleanor was glad that the commander had a mind to do a bit of his own decision making at this point, instead of having to ask him over and over again if he would need, or if he would like. In fact, as Cullen reached down to a low shelf and put an economy-sized box of Pop-Tarts into the basket, Eleanor was caught between a laugh and glare.

"What?" he asked innocently, though his frozen motion said that he was caught red-handed.

"I make you breakfast every morning!"

"I like them!" he insisted, but slowly started to pull them back out of the basket.

"Oh, go on then," she said, coming around the side of the cart, unable to do anything but give him a little squeeze.

They exited the cavernous aisle and into the path of a massive display of artificial Christmas trees, their fiber optic lights flickering brightly even under the glare of the fluorescents overhead.

Cullen paused and turned his head to the side, standing still even as Eleanor, unfazed, continued walking. She was a few yards ahead before she realized her cart - and her partner - were no longer with her. Turning around, she put her hands on her hips.

"Cul, come on, we still have to get freezer stuff."

"Are these trees," Cullen said slowly, abandoning the cart and walking up to the display, "full of lights?"

"They're plastic, Cullen, they're not real trees."

He reached out and rubbed the white needles of an artificially-snowy Douglas fir between his fingers and thumb. "But… why?" he asked her.

"It's for Christmas, it's stupid," she said, grabbing him by the wrist.

"That's, ah - it's a holiday?"

"Mhm," she answered, folding her arms across her chest.

"Do you… are we… celebrating this?"

"Nah, no. We have other things to worry about, right?" she said, not adding that she hadn't been moved to celebrate Christmas since her father had died, and even then it had been more of a time out, a quiet day with cocoa, than any real sort of celebration, religious or otherwise. The Redgroves had always been a secular sort.

"No, but," Cullen said, his hand still on the tree, but Eleanor now had to drag him away.

"Come on, babe, we're taking up space."

The commander swiveled his head around and took note of the few other shoppers who wanted to be where he was, so he followed Eleanor a few feet, and asked, "But what is the tree for?"

"To put presents under," Eleanor answered, heading for a freezer door.

"Who are the presents for?"

"I dunno, friends, family, people you love," then under her breath mumbled something about people she didn't want to be bothered buying presents for.

Cullen paid her mumbling no heed, instead asking, "Shall I get you a present?"

Eleanor stopped, her hand on the freezer door handle, then let it drop.

"Have I said something wrong?" he asked.

Eleanor pressed her lips together in an irrepressible little smile, and walked to him, putting her hand on his arm. "You don't have to get me a damn thing," she said softly, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. "We don't have a tree to put presents under," she added.

He turned his head back the way they had come and asked, "Should we get a tree? I like the white one."

"No, Cullen."


	4. Home for Christmas

It was hard work loading and unloading the car, especially in the winter. Eleanor had backed up to the barn, the tires of the car leaving tracks in the snow, underneath which there was a path somewhere but which wouldn't show itself again until March. The soldiers helped, forming a sort of fire brigade to pass all of their dry goods into the renovated space, those on the end setting to work stocking the cupboards in the little kitchen area and filling the chest freezer. When the goods had been divested, Eleanor did a lap of the space, making sure every bed had clean, warm bedding and that none of the slats overheat were drafty or leaky - which they never were; Eleanor's father had done good work turning the old, rickety barn into livable space for the farm hands not all that long ago, and the maintenance Eleanor kept up with every summer made sure the structure remained in good condition. As a bonus, she now more than knew her way around a roof. But the soldiers insisted all was well, that they'd had much worse, and soon, Eleanor was in the kitchen, filling her own fridge with all the edibles and potables that she and Cullen had brought home.

She was just reaching up to close the last cabinet when she turned around and saw a box of hot cocoa mix on the table, somehow having escaped her notice until now. She'd thrown it in the cart without really thinking about it and Cullen, now in the dining room going over the latest reports from Skyhold, had unpacked most of the boxes and bags, and Eleanor had forgotten all about the drink mix until this moment.

Climbing up on a chair, Eleanor reached to open the cabinet above the sink, but as she lifted the box, she caught a scent of the chocolate powder as it shifted, and it made Eleanor pause.

She'd bought the mix on a whim, having always associated hot cocoa with the holidays, and after Cullen had gone all soft over the tree, she'd pulled the box off of an end cap and thrown it into the cart along with the industrial quantities of eggs, bread, and a million other things.

But now that it was here in her hands, now that she smelled that sweet smell, Eleanor stopped in place, one hand still reaching up to the cabinet, the other holding the box of chocolate. She looked down at it, at the blue packaging, and let the arm that was reaching up slowly drop, leaving the cupboard door open.

She rolled her lips as she slowly stepped back down to the floor, not taking her eyes off box. Eleanor let herself sit down in the chair, her back to the sink. Holding the box in both hands like a book, she let her head hang a bit as her vision misted over. She sniffed.

Cullen had had his head down over the giant map that had replaced the tablecloth on the dining room table for some months now, but he stopped and looked up and through the doorway, where he could see Eleanor sitting forlornly in a misplaced chair, hair falling free from her ponytail and around her eyes which hid whether or not she might be crying. Her posture gave him no reassurance that he was not.

He stood up and walked softly into the kitchen, lowering himself down to the level in which she sat in the chair, knees bent, balancing on tiptoe. He peered down at the box, then up at her.

"Did it say something to upset you?" he asked, tone sincere in spite of his joke.

Eleanor didn't look up, but her shoulders shuddered in a little laugh. "It told me I smell."

"You do smell," he answered.

With a louder chuckle, she elbowed him in the shoulder and he wobbled, reaching out and grabbing on to her arm to steady himself. She wiggled the limb back and forth, threatening to cause him to fall.

"You're awful," she said as he steadied himself, but Cullen only smiled, standing up to put an arm over her shoulders.

Eleanor raised up the box a bit and one hand and slapped it into the palm of the other, answering the question he hadn't needed to ask. "I dunno, just… we always used to drink hot cocoa this time of year, and…" She looked up at him with a sad smile, pressing the top of her head against his ribs.

"You and your father?"

Eleanor nodded. "And Mom, I guess, but I don't remember much."

He bent down and kissed her hair, and a silence passed between them.

"What about your parents?" she asked in a moment of realization.

"What about them?"

"You told me about your siblings, but not…" her voice trailed off as she watched his face darken. "I'm sorry," she said, looking away, knowing the implication of his expression without him having to speak.

"It's alright," he answered, and told her.


	5. All Food

"I wasn't there, when they died. I should have been… I was at the tower, Kinloch Hold. I had just taken my final vows the year prior and I was eager to prove myself. I was also, incidentally, almost entirely safe from the Blight that took them."

He paused, and looked away. There was something of a shameful look on his face. Eleanor reached out and squeezed his hand.

"My brothers and sisters all made it to South Reach; Mia still lives there. My parents just… didn't." He took a deep breath. "That's all there is to tell, really."

Cullen pulled away from Eleanor and reached for a chair of his own, sliding it away from the table and turning it to face her. Eleanor held the box of hot cocoa in one hand and reached out for Cullen's knee with the other. He put his hand on top of hers and ran the other through his hair, looking away, out of the window in the kitchen door, onto the snowy white backyard. It was late afternoon, getting on for evening, and the snow was stained a sherbet pink and orange as the afternoon dimmed.

Eleanor didn't have an answer; despite knowing the kind of loss that Cullen must feel, what could she possibly say to him? Aside from the fact that they were both a decade or more removed, Eleanor thought it almost trite to say that she understood what she had gone through - of course she did, and of course she never could. Instead, she turned her hand over beneath his and held on to his wrist, pulling herself up out of the chair to reach out and embrace him, the hand that held the cocoa box behind his back.

"Come on," she said after a moment. "I'm gonna make you a cup of hot chocolate."

* * *

"We have something like this," Cullen said, taking a sip of the cocoa. "But not… these." He lifted up one mini marshmallow from the bag on the table and gave it a squish between his fingers.

"The wonders of food science. Marshmallows are my favorite food," Eleanor said, but it came out muffled for all the marshmallows that were already in her mouth.

"I thought cheese was your favorite food."

"It is."

Cullen was quiet as he processed this.

"All food is my favorite food," said Eleanor, wolfing another fistful of marshmallows. "My favorite favorite is whatever is in front of me at the time."

"Ah."

"Life is short, Cullen. Eat marshmallows."

"Sage advice," he said with a smile, dropping one of the fluffed white confections into his drink. He took a long drink this time and then rested his elbows on the table, the cup held between his hands. "Your father was a wise man," he said.

"That he was," Eleanor agreed.

"Should we tell Varric and Dorian there's some for them?"

Eleanor paused, brushing her leg against Cullen's under the table. "Maybe in a minute." She picked up a marshmallow and closed one eye. Lifting her arm, she pinched the sweet between her fingers, and, after a moment's calibration, tossed the marshmallow, which landed with a tiny splash in Cullen's cup.

He lowered his arms and lifted an eyebrow at her.

"Two points!" Eleanor shouted, lifting her own cup and her empty hand high into the air.

"Two…"

"Basketball. It's a sport. A bunch of people try to put an orange ball in a tall hoop. Two points for a basket. If I were way over by the sink that would totally be three."


End file.
